Round and about,Other things exist,Inside and within,A secret sleeps;Of a life by itself,By itself, a life unique;And yet to all life,A secret each.To be held within,But never doubting,The stranger and his secret,The sea and the beaches,The baker and his bread,The graveyard and the graves.All these and more,All we hold in awe,Tells us the parts, That make the whole,But the whole itself asleep,For the parts,A secret each,Are by themselves,Unique.

I think I could live off of Applie Pie alone. Far better than most cakes, better than pumkin for sure. And in a pinch, a slice of cold apple pie with a cup of hot, black coffee is a great breakfast....